


Just Might Find 5

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: Just Might Find [8]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Phone Sex, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-26
Updated: 2005-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they get started on their contract, Bill calls Sean.  Phone sex ensues.  Not that anyone ought to be surprised...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Find 5

Bill's spent a few days running around London with a real estate agent, and he's pretty sure he's decided on a place. It's more than he wanted -- more space, more money, longer lease -- but it's an utterly gorgeous flat in what used to be a public library, and he supposes the one good thing about having money is that he can indulge himself when he likes something.

_Plus,_ he thinks, reaching for the phone, _it's got fantastic load bearing points all over it._ With that thought in mind, he dials Sean's number.

Sean drapes the dishtowel over his shoulder and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter, thumbing the button as he gets the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Sean," Bill says. "How you doing?"

_Well, I'm hard now,_ Sean thinks, grinning wryly as he has to adjust his cock. "I'm doing fine, sir. How are you?"

"Just about to close a lease on a flat and going out of my mind," Bill admits. "I hate all this legal crap." He leans back in his chair. "You busy right now, boy?"

"No, sir, I'm not busy." Sean puts the dishtowel down on the counter and leans forward, both elbows resting on tile, as his grin turns a little less wry and a little more anticipatory. "Can I do something for you, sir?"

"You hard yet, boy?" Bill asks, and yeah, maybe it's a little arrogant asking that when they've just been on the phone for a minute, but he has a sneaking suspicion that the answer is yes.

"Yes, sir," Sean murmurs. No reason to be embarrassed by it. He's going under contract at the end of the week. Bill's his dom; he's supposed to have this effect on Sean. _My dom. Holy fuck._ Sean hasn't framed it in quite those terms before, so it's a startling realization to come to on a warm afternoon in the middle of his kitchen. "I'm hard for you, sir."

"That's good; it's what I want to hear," Bill says. "Where are you? Can you jerk off for me right now?"

"I'm in my kitchen, sir, just cleaning up. And Christ but I'd love to jerk off for you. Do you want me kneeling, sir?"

Asking "what are you wearing?" would be painfully cliched, and, really, it doesn't matter. "On your knees with your clothes pushed out of the way just enough to give you room to get at your cock," Bill says. As the rustling of clothes lets him know Sean's obeying, he continues.

"I've been thinking about having you in my room. You say you're not a late night person, but sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep right away. I was thinking how nice it would be to have a boy to fuck at times like that. You wouldn't really need to be awake for much of it."

Sean groans, cupping his balls. "I'd do my best to wake up for you, sir." But he loves the idea of being rolled over and used that way, half-asleep and barely able to groan before Bill's all over him.

"Wouldn't really matter," Bill says. "Sometimes I want your attention, your interest. Sometimes it's good to know there's a person on the other side of this, a thinking person who's voluntarily surrendering to my wishes. And other times ... I just want a boy to fuck."

"_Yes._ Please..." Sean gives his balls a light squeeze, then runs his palm up the length of his cock. "Sometimes that's all I want. To be used. Taken. Just a body. Just a hole to fuck. _Sir._"

"You like that idea a lot, don't you, boy?" Bill says. "You like the idea of someone ... a Master, who doesn't think about what you want, or, if he thinks about it, doesn't care."

Sean's grip on his cock tightens. "Yeah," he breathes, "yes, sir, I like that idea one hell of a lot." There's something that feels safe about having a master like that; Sean's not sure if that makes sense, but it's the feeling that has his cock dripping and his body aching, all of him wishing it were Sunday already.

"I could leave you tied over something -- a chair or a table -- and just come in and use you during the day," Bill says, letting his voice go a little lower. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, boy?"

This time Sean's got to take his hand off his cock altogether. The image is too fucking good, and they haven't been on the phone very long. "Yes, sir, _fuck_, yes. Nothing to think about but when you'd want me again. I'd fucking love it."

"You still working it?" Bill says. "Are you kneeling there, hand on your cock, thinking about me using you as a fuck toy?"

"I -- no, sir," Sean says, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I was afraid I'd come too soon if I kept jerking off."

"Did I tell you to stop?" Bill asks mildly.

_Shit._ "No, sir," Sean says, starting up again, groans coming out hard and fast.

"When I want you to stop," Bill says, his voice a little firmer now, "I'll let you know. When I want you to come, I'll let you know." He pauses, enjoying the sounds of Sean's groaning. "You tell me when you're close, but I want you to be really close. So close it'll be one more stroke before you come. Understood, boy?"

"Yes -- yes, sir," Sean pants, squeezing just under the head of his cock with every stroke up. "Understood, sir. Fuck, feels good, sir." And it feels so good being under orders; Sean doesn't want it to stop.

"What feels good?" Bill asks. "Just you jerking off?" He doubts it's just that -- he already knows that Sean's the sort who likes a firm hand -- but he wants to be sure.

"Yes -- oh, God -- no, not just that, sir, the -- all of it, sir, being here on my knees like this and getting orders from you, sir, and God, don't want to come until you tell me, please, want to be good for you, sir, want this _so_ much, can't fucking wait for Sunday, sir." Sean feels like he's babbling, but he's got his hand on his cock and he's getting closer with every stroke; he hopes Bill will forgive him for babbling.

"I could tell you to wait until Sunday," Bill says. "I could have you so wound up you'd come at the touch of a finger. Hell, there's nothing that says you get to come any time next week."

Sean whimpers at that. _Hell, yes, I'd give you that much, do that for you, take that for you, in a heartbeat, sir._ "Yes, sir," he moans, "oh God, please, sir, anything you want. _Anything._"

"Anything?" Bill's voice is amused. "That's a dangerous thing to offer, boy."

"Oh--" And Sean laughs, almost, the sound trapped in another moan. "Yes, sir, it probably is." _I don't care._ Right now it doesn't matter if it's dangerous. He means what he's saying.

"Anything...." Bill muses. "What would you do right now if I were there, standing in front of you?"

"Beg to suck you," Sean says immediately. "Beg to get my mouth on your cock, sir."

"Oh, I don't know that you've earned that yet," Bill says, damn glad he jerked off in the shower this morning. And still, he's hard. _Who wouldn't be, listening to this. Fuck, but he's got a gorgeous voice for it._ "I think I want to see that mouth somewhere else first, boy."

_Oh, Christ, and I can't stop,_ Sean thinks, almost whimpering as the strokes bring him closer and closer to the edge. "Does sir need his boots cleaned?" Sean asks. His voice doesn't break, but it's close.

That little noise is perfect, and Bill smiles broadly. "They could do with a shine."

"Then please, sir, let me get my tongue on leather for you. I'd be so fucking good, sir, please, I promise, hands behind my back and knees spread and my mouth all over your boots until they're shining, fuck, please let me -- oh _fuck_." It takes a few harsh pants before Sean's sure he's not just going to go screaming over the edge. "Oh, fuck, sir, I'm close."

"Stop," Bill says. He gives Sean a second to pant into the phone. "Want it pretty bad, don't you, boy?"

"Yes, sir," Sean whispers, cock so hot it's practically searing his palm. "Please, sir?"

"Not yet," Bill says, still smiling even as he presses his hand against his fly. _Wonder how long I'm going to make it, never mind Sean._ "You're not desperate enough. Give yourself a breather and tell me why you like licking boots so much."

A breather. Thank God. Sean lets his cock go, puts his hand on his thigh and tilts his head back, taking the breather literally as an opportunity to catch his breath. "The taste of leather, for one thing, sir," Sean murmurs. "Love the way it feels under my tongue and the way leather tastes, the way it smells on a man who knows what he wants and how he's going to take it." Sean remembers the first men he saw in full leathers, how easy he'd been for them even before he knew what they were offering. "Love kneeling that way, having my face that low to the ground, my body pressed into position so I know where my place is."

"And that is where you belong, isn't it, Sean. Down there on your knees, with your mouth all over my boots, or jerking off just because I told you to." Bill takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair. "All right, say you've convinced me to let you suck me. Talk me through it." Before Sean can answer, Bill adds, "and get back to the jerking off."

"Fuck, sir," Sean whimpers, but he doesn't even think about disobeying. His hand's back on his cock, pumping hard, and Christ, he has to talk instead of biting his lips and struggling not to come. "I'd be up -- on my knees -- mouth open -- groaning all around your cock and sucking -- using my tongue, pressing up hard, oh _fuck_, fuck, you taste so fucking good, sir, and I'd shove down hard to get as much of your cock down my throat as I could. I'd shove forward 'til you were choking me. Choke myself on your cock, sir, oh Christ, please, please, may I come for you, sir?" Sean begs. _Forward fucking boy. What the hell makes you think he's going to say yes to that?_

"No," Bill says flatly. "This isn't about you coming, it's about me and what you want to do for me. Keep talking."

"Want to, _please_, want to run my tongue down the underside of your cock, suck on the head, lick up anything you're dripping and then get my mouth and tongue all over your balls, sir, bathe them and get them nice and slick before sucking on them, humming with your balls in my mouth, go back to sucking your cock until my lips are tight around the base and oh God--" Sean's groans are pained now, desperate, and he's gasping, panting for air as he tries to stay coherent. "Oh, God, want to taste your come so much, sir, want you to come down my throat, or pull back so you can come all over my face and watch me trying to fucking lick it up, tongue stuck out as far as it can go, _please_, sir, oh fuck, God, please, want you to come all over me, sir, please!"

Bill finally has to give in and undo his jeans. Keeping his hand light on his cock, he strokes it while listening to Sean's increasingly desperate voice. "You like that," he says, knowing Sean will have to strain a little to hear him. "Like the idea of me coming on you. And what if I came all over your floor? What then, boy?"

"Then I'd beg you to let me lick it up, sir," Sean pants. "Beg to rub my face in it and get myself messy, sticky with it. For you. Christ, please, let me get messy for you, sir, let me clean your come off my floor with my face, with my tongue, want you so much, sir, _please_."

_How the hell,_ Bill finds himself wondering, _did anyone let him go?_ It's not a fair thought -- Bill knows nothing about what Sean and David had -- and he lets it go. "You'd look good down there, licking the floor, your face covered with it," he says. "I want to see you like that." And there it is again, that _I want_. "My boy, face covered with my come."

"Yes -- _yes_ \-- please -- sir -- yours," Sean growls, between harsh gasps. "Want you to see me like that," he gets out, "yours like that, sir, yes, please, oh _fuck_."

"Are you close, boy?" Bill asks, smirking a little.

"_Yes_," Sean almost shouts, "yes, sir, Christ, so fucking close for you, sir..." And amazed he hasn't come yet.

"Stop," Bill says, utterly confident that he'll be obeyed. "Talk to me about football for a few minutes here. And keep your hand to your side or resting on your knee."

_Talk about football?_ Sean thinks he might scream; his cock's aching, skin feeling rubbed raw, clear liquid coating the head and dripping down the shaft now as he tries to think of something, _anything_, other than how much he wants to come. "I -- fuck," Sean says, and starts talking about the end of the season, how close Sheffield got but how far they are from sixth, how next season's going to make all the difference, and he's babbling, hoping his cock will notice he's not talking about sex and calm down some. _Not too bloody likely._

Sean's giving it the old college try -- _or whatever they call that here in England_ \-- and Bill guesses it's not really helping too much. But that's fine. He wants Sean more and more desperate, wants to see how far he can push Sean. "How's your cock?" he says, interrupting something about next season.

"Fucking purple, sir," Sean says, "feels like it's about to come right off." He's torn between hoping Bill doesn't ask him to touch it again and praying Bill tells him just to come -- he could almost do it without touching himself.

"It won't," Bill says. "But I'll bet you'll find yourself wishing it would. Start up again. I want you to think about how that would feel if the cuff were on your wrist and I was holding the leash."

"Oh, Christ," Sean groans, but he's starting up again and imagining it like he's been told. He can _feel_ it, the weight of the cuff and the light tug against it from the leash, and the imagined sensation shoots through him, gets his nipples hard and makes him gasp as the rings through them feel heavy, tight, electric. His cock does feel raw now, and it's going to sting and ache like hell, and it'll be so worth it, worth every moment of it, because he's doing this on orders and whether he comes or not doesn't matter -- what matters is he's got a dom to serve, someone who wants him on his knees this way. _Thank you, thank you, thank you..._

"I'll have to do that," Bill says, as if making a mental note. "Chain you up with just the one wrist free and then pull your hand away whenever I think you're getting too close. Tell me, Sean, do you like strong bondage? Heavy chains, thick cuffs with big locks ... that sort of thing?"

"Yes, sir," Sean says, though his voice is so much a growl now that it's almost impossible to make words out of it. "Like all of it, sir, anything, fuck, sir, _hurts_."

"You sounds good hurting for me," Bill says. "Reach up and twist one of those rings hard. I want to hear how much it hurts."

Sean jerks at his shirt, getting his hand underneath, and gives his right nipple a harsh twist, harsh enough he does cry out, loud and sharp and not trying to hide any of it.

"Fuck, that's good," Bill says, his hand speeding up. "Again; I like listening to you while I jerk off."

"Jesus," Sean pants, mental image burning through him, but then he's following orders, twisting his ring hard enough to draw a short scream out of him. "Fuck _yes_ thank you sir," Sean gasps.

"Fuck," Bill mutters again, damn glad he doesn't need to be all that articulate. Sean's screams are getting to him. "I want to keep hearing you make noise," he says, deliberately leaving it up to Sean just how he generates that noise.

"Yes, sir," Sean says, and he moves his hand to his other nipple, pinching behind the ring and letting Bill hear him cry out from that, tugging and growling with every soft jerk until the tugs feel more like teasing and he wrenches the ring in a hard twist, one that makes him scream all over again.

It's Bill's turn to make noise -- a low soft groan -- as he comes, his head thrown back against the back of the chair. "Hear that, boy?" he says as soon as he's caught his breath. "I came after hearing you scream."

"Oh, Christ, thank you, sir, thank you," Sean pants. "Love screaming for you, sir, can't wait to do more of it in person."

"Oh, don't worry," Bill says with an amused chuckle. "You will. How are you doing?" he adds, looking at the clock and realizing they've been at this for almost an hour. "Still got your hand on your cock?"

"Running out of hands, sir," Sean admits, grinning as he tucks the phone between his ear and his shoulder and drops his hand back down to his cock. It's awkward, but it works, and it makes him gasp, giving him a chance to work his cock and tug at his nipple rings all at once. _Christ, I'm not going to last another thirty seconds._

"Sounds like you're a clever enough boy to make it work," Bill says. "How badly do you want to come right now? How much will you beg?"

"Jesus _fuck_ sir I'm bloody dying for it," Sean says, the rhythm picking back up and his whole body starting to ache for it. He's rocking forward into his strokes, twisting and tugging at his nipple rings, and if part of him's afraid the phone's going to go sliding out from under his ear, he's not going to worry about it right now. "Christ, please, can't stand it, need to--" _no_ "--want to come so much, sir, please, _please_."

Although Sean sounds fantastic, the very fact that he can still speak is enough to convince Bill that he can get more from Sean. "Not yet," he says. "Stop if you need to, but I want you on the edge right now, I want you desperate. And you're not desperate yet, are you, boy?"

_Oh, thank fuck._ Sean stops, trying to catch his breath. "Please, sir, I _am_," he moans, sliding his tongue over his lips, closing his eyes. "_Please._ Whatever it is you need from me, please, sir, yes, I'm fucking desperate for it."

"No," Bill corrects, "you just think you're desperate. What I want from you, what I need from you, is your pain, your submission. I want you to fucking give until you think you haven't got anything left." It's a little over the top, but then again, this sort of scene is over the top. _Never stopped me before._ "And then I'll take the rest."

Sean exhales hard; the tension goes out of his back and shoulders, and he nods, thumbing the button on the phone that'll switch it to speaker. _Why the fuck didn't I think of that before?_ he wonders before putting the phone on the floor and spreading his knees wider, drying off both his palms on his thighs. "Yes, sir," he murmurs, "_yours_, sir," and to hell with the contract not starting until Sunday; he means it.

"That's a good boy," Bill says, hearing the way Sean seems to calm down. "That's what I'm going to want from you," he continues. "That level of slavery. And you want it, too, don't you?" It's not exactly a trick question, but Bill's curious to see what kind of a response he gets from Sean.

"_Yes_," Sean murmurs, feeling relief more than anything. He wants to be this far under -- wants it _badly_ \-- and if he fucks something up Bill's going to be there to pick him up and push him right back where he belongs. It's not some cosmic alignment of the planets; it's just the right person at the right time, and that's more than good enough. "Want it so much, sir."

"Mmmm," Bill says, wishing he could see Sean. _Sunday,_ he tells himself firmly. "Start up again. Push yourself for me, boy."

This time when Sean starts up he's nonverbal at best, groans and grunts coming out of his throat while he winces through every stroke. His cock's red now, jerked raw, and it's going to hurt like hell whether he comes or not. It's a gorgeous feeling -- at this point, coming's second to obeying orders and following Bill's lead without thinking so much as a minute ahead. Another groan, and maybe he gets a curse out, but mostly it's just growls and half-panted shouts as he works his sore cock as hard as he can. _Push yourself for me, boy. Fuck, yes._

This is one of those many times when Bill wishes he had the recovery time of a twenty year old. _Don't want to be twenty, just want to be able to get it up like I was twenty._

"Good boy," he murmurs. "That's what I want to hear. Want to hear you hurting for me."

The sound Sean makes is affirmative but definitely not a word; he twists his nipple ring hard, moves from one to the other as he keeps jerking off. The way he's hurting is more than obvious in his voice, and he's right at that place where he could keep doing this or come at any instant depending on what Bill's orders are.

Bill lets the tension build up a bit longer; the noises Sean is making are perfect and he finds himself greedy for more of them. _I'll get more of that later, as much as I want._ And that's the good thing about subs as needy as Sean, particularly when they come with Sean's high pain threshold. _Everyone gets to be greedy._

"Do you want to come for me?" he asks, wondering if Sean can even manage words at this point.

"_Unhhh_." Not quite a word. All right, not even close. Sean spends almost ten seconds panting before he can get out "_please_."

"Do it," Bill orders. "Come for me, boy."

Sean can't even get out the words _thank you, sir_, just a long, grateful groan as he comes, streaking the floor and his hand with his come, cock jerking long after the last of it's gone. He doesn't want to stop until the pain's too sharp to keep beating off through, but he ends up gasping, panting, groaning with every stroke until he has to stop.

Bill can't help being impressed; it's obvious that Sean kept on long after he came and that's got to fucking hurt. "I like the sound of you hurting," he says, wishing he could be there to see Sean right now.

"Nn -- thank -- thank you, sir," Sean gasps. "Fuck, that was good, sir."

"It was very good, Sean," Bill replies warmly. "You're a damn good boy."

"Thank you, sir," Sean murmurs, sinking down onto forearms and knees on the floor. He'll clean up later, or when he's told to; right now he just needs to collapse. "It's fucking good to hear from you, in case I didn't say that already..."

"I think I figured that out," Bill says, with a chuckle. "How have you been this week? Enjoying your time with your girls?"

"It's been a good week, yes, sir, and the girls have been great, but we're all glad Mel's going to be home soon. I'm actually having civil conversations with her these past few days; she's calling every night." Sean frowns a bit, wondering if that's more than Bill wanted to know, but then Bill's the one who brought up his kids, so maybe not. "How have you been, sir?"

"Glad to hear things are going well on that front," Bill says. "I've been chasing all over London looking at places to rent, so I've been simultaneously busy and bored out of my mind. Found a great place though, used to be an old public library. You'll probably end up seeing it, I'm supposed to go over it with an Establishment contractor sometime next week."

Sean perks up at that; the idea of needing to bring in an Establishment contractor just to get a house rented sparks off all sorts of thoughts, and it's another piece of evidence that leads Sean to thinking that Bill's not fooling around with this -- he's serious enough about his kink to want Sean for a week, to get appropriate eyebolts installed. _This is going to be so good._ "I'd like seeing it, sir," he says. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you -- I've done some renovation work on and off over the years. I know how to handle a drill, at least."

There's something very appealing about the idea of Sean actually installing the bolts that Bill intends to tie him to. "I'd like that," he says with a broad smile, already making a mental list of the things he'll need to set up the right scene. "I'll set a date with the guy."

"Sounds good," Sean says, nodding. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"One thing," Bill says, wincing a little. "I'd like to know if you've told David about this. I don't know how close you two are right now; should he know about this before he hears about it through the grapevine?"

"I mentioned I'm going under contract for a week," Sean says slowly. "Waiting to get the email in return before I tell him who with; I didn't know how much he wanted to know. We're emailing a bit, but not much more than that. It's not a secret, though." He stops, thinking. "Which reminds me; would you mind if I put up a post on my journal letting people know I'll be out of pocket for a week or so? Just to let them know I'm all right and I'm not disappearing for no reason. I figure we'll be busy enough I'm not likely to be keeping up with people very well that week."

"Fair enough," Bill says with an air of relief. _Glad we got that out of the way._ "As for you telling people, feel free to say as much as you like. I don't believe in the total communication lockdown thing, so you'll have time for email and phonecalls."

"Thank you," Sean says, oddly relieved. "It'll be nice having good news to tell my friends for once."

"I'm glad to be your good news," Bill says, wishing he could touch Sean right now. He likes that, actually, likes that Sean's so tactile and that he doesn't mind being touched. While Bill understands wishing to avoid seeming feminine, he's never had any problem with lovers who like to cuddle.

And now the conversation's just making Sean shake his head and grin. "Well, we could go on flattering ourselves a while, sir, but I'm wondering if you'd mind if I cleaned up some. My floor's sticky."

"If I were there," Bill says with a chuckle, "I'd make you use your tongue. But right now you probably want a shower as much as I do, so don't feel you have to." He pauses and then speaks a little more seriously. "You were a good boy this afternoon, Sean."

"Thank you, sir," Sean says, smiling. "If there's anything I can do for you between now and Sunday, it's yours."

"Don't eat too big a breakfast on Sunday morning," Bill says. "We're doing brunch at the club. Other than that, I can't think of anything, although I'll let you know if I do."

"I can't bloody wait, sir," Sean grins. It's going to be such a good week.

"See you then, boy," Bill replies before ending the call. Damn, but it'll be good to have a boy again, even if it's just for the week.

_-end-_


End file.
